


Maquis Heart

by The_Elephant_in_the_Pride_Parade



Series: Unbowed, Unbent [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode Remix, Episode: s04e08 Year of Hell, Fix-It Ending, Gen, first voyager fic, well maybe not exactly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Elephant_in_the_Pride_Parade/pseuds/The_Elephant_in_the_Pride_Parade
Summary: Boldy going where I've never gone before: Voyager fic. I started watching it over the summer, and I know I have a bunch of other works I need to be finishing, but I was inspired and this was short and I whipped it up really fast. Basically I kinda hated that Year of Hell just disappeared at the end of the episode without any consequences or evidence that it had happened... and I wanted a different ending. So Here's one. First Voyager fic I've ever posted. Be kind. <3





	1. The Scars of Hell

** Science Officers Log : 51268 **

_**ENSIGN SAMANTHA WILDMAN** _

**(1) I was on Alpha shift this morning manning the Science Station. We were passing through what we had heard might be a disputed area of space, so the Captain had me closely monitoring the particle data for any indication of recent Class A weapons fire. I saw signs of Class B and C energy weapons – nothing that would breach our shields – and reported it to the Captain, along with my estimate that it had been a few weeks since weapons were fired within the next 3 light years. She gave the approval to proceed.**

**(2) … I guess I should start with how I viewed things as it happened. I’m still trying to process everything I learned after. Okay…**

**(3) Shortly after the Captain gave the order to proceed, at about 10:30, we detected a small vessel on the long range scanners. The Captain had just given the order to scan their weapons capabilities, when – all at once – all the senior officers on the bridge collapsed. At Science, I heard the Captain and Commander scream. Lt. Tuvok shouted. He sounded surprised. I didn’t know Vulcans could sound surprised. I think I heard Ensign Kim scream too. Lt. Paris might have gasped. I know he very suddenly pushed himself away from the Conn because I saw his chair knocked over after…**

**(4) When I turned around. I saw the Captain collapsed in her seat. And Commander Chakotay was on the floor, on his stomach. He was seizing for a second and then he collapsed too. They were both unconscious.**

**(5) Lt. Tuvok called for Paris then. He declared himself unwell. Paris was… was not okay either. He was as white as a sheet. Ensign Kim I think was on the floor behind Ops. because I didn’t see him. Paris shook his head… I thought at the time he looked like those Wolf 359 survivors we treated at Starfleet Medical my Junior year … it was like Paris was looking at something that wasn’t there.**

**(6) Tuvok was trying to find a button on his station. I asked him what was wrong and he said he couldn’t see. He asked who the ranking officer on the bridge was. And… and I know it should have been Chapman because he has a year on me and he’s on Command Track… but Chapman… he was just frozen in the Yeoman’s chair and he looked like he was having a panic attack.**

**(7) I stood up and ordered site to sites for all the senior officers to Sickbay, immediately. Bo hesitated when she heard my voice, but she did it. Baytart had already taken up the Conn station. On Chapman’s station and the Conn, I could see the vessel we’d been tracking was approaching our position.**

**(8) I ordered Chapman to get up and man Tactical, and then Comm’d Ayala and told him to get to the Bridge. Engineering reported in then to say Torres had just been taken to Sickbay. I had to ask who the ranking officer in Engineering was after her cause I forgot. It was Nicoletti that shift. I had her run a warp core diagnostic and be prepared for a quick getaway.**

**(9) Then Baytart said the other ship was hailing us and… and I panicked for one second because everyone on the bridge was looking at me. But I got up… It’s a good thing Delta Quadrant species don’t know our pip system. I tried my best to put on a Captain’s face and square my shoulders…**

**(10) The vessel identified themselves as Kremin. They were nowhere near our capabilities. They warned us about disputed areas ahead and let us continue on our way. I asked them to send over any cartographic data they had of the disputed areas and Delaney confirmed it was in Astrometrics a second later – that's when I knew Seven must have been affected by whatever felled the senior bridge officers. I started to worry about Neelix.**

**(11) I thank the stars every day for Naomi and how she’s taught me to keep my head even when the world (or my toddler) is having a meltdown. I ordered Baytart to stay on our current course. Ayala arrived. He took Tactical. Chapman had had the wherewithal to ask for Harry Kim’s second so then I had Ensign Craig at Ops.**

**(12) It was only then that I noticed the Conn looked weird, and the hull plating around the view screen too. And the view screen. It was like… I was seeing double images. The under layer was the normal conn, viewscreen etc. and the overlayer… bulkheads and stations and metal that was just… burnt and buckled and-and rended apart. And... If I looked sideways at the viewscreen, I swear I could see open space…**

**(13) Um… I don’t know if this ought to go in an official log… but in that moment I got a… a flash of the rest of the ship looking beat up and broken and… and covered in debris… of seeing it smoking and limping at impulse into a nebula as I flew away from it in an escape pod. And I… I never understood the phrase until that moment. It felt like someone was walking on my grave…**

~~**_...DAY 32..._ ** ~~

“No. _No._ We all stay together,” Captain Kathryn Janeway said as she raised her chin as though he would challenge her. 

Chakotay’s shoulders slumped. He toed a bit of debris on the dirty carpet. “To be honest,” he sighed. “I didn’t like the idea any more than you do.”

She relaxed. Thank goodness he was with her on this. Her eyes fell on her lucky teacup, still intact despite all these weeks. “Unbowed, unbent,” she murmured his old Maquis tradition.

Chakotay clapped her on the shoulder. “Unbro – ” but the abrupt blaring of the klaxons and the shudder of a chroniton torpedo punching through their hull sent both officers bolting out onto the bridge, ritual un-finished.

The ship shuddered again. The lights flickered. The lucky teacup toppled and broke. Its tiny, shattered pieces spewed to disparate corners of the battered ready room.

Chakotay found its handle later, in the quiet after the chaos, when he went in to leave a report on her battle-weary desk. She’d read it if he left it there. He felt a bit uncomfortable having Tuvok override him into her private sanctuary. And also about leaving the report here when she’d made him promise to pass it on as soon as it was finished. But he and Neelix and Tuvok had only _just_ convinced her to sleep…

Chakotay eyed the broken china shards with a despondent, all-encompassing sadness. Even luck was not immune, from chroniton weapons, it seemed.

Solemnly, he scoured the ready room, cleaning up every tiny shard and recycling it. He then spent the last of his month’s rations on a replicated copy. He put it down on the desk right where Kathryn had left the original.

 _Unbroken,_ he thought with another sigh and hung his head, heavy after 18 hours on duty.

They were still unbowed, still unbent. They could, Chakotay desperately prayed, remain unbroken.

They just might need a little help. **  
**

~~**_...DAY 41..._ ** ~~

“Unbowed, Unbent…” Lt. B'Elanna Torres muttered and swore as the warp core spewed more plasma into her face, out of the leak she was frantically trying to repair. 

God damnit: if the _Val Jean_ had pulled through so many times on this very prayer, her gorgeous intrepid-class warp core had _god damn_ better do the same.

“Unbowed, Un – _Petaq!”_ She hissed as another  plasma jet burnt her left hand. She put the hyper-spanner between her teeth to keep it directed on the leak and shook out her burnt hand as her other worked double time along with the hyper-spanner. 

“ _Unbowed… un…bent.”_ She glared at the stubborn engine. “ _Unbro–”_

She saw the flash of blue and clenched her eyes shut and her good hand around the sealant. She just needed a few more seconds to… 

The computer chimed. 

 _It worked!_ She opened her eyes and grinned ferally around the hyper-spanner at the patched leak. Then she tried to push up on her elbows and fell – pain lanced up her burnt arm.

B'Elanna cried out. The hyper-spanner fell onto her chest. She hissed as she struggled to right herself. “ _Unbowed, Unbent, un… ah!”_

Cool hands grabbed her under her shoulders, hauling her out from under the warp core and up onto the main engineering deck.  

She sighed and looked at the person who was now checking her burnt arm.  

_Vorik!?_

The young Vulcan looked at her with his usual dispassionate gaze and nodded to her. “Unbroken,” he declared. “Though I would recommend a stop in sickbay anyway, Sir.” 

B'Elanna grinned at him. “You’re learning, Ensign,” she teased. 

He raised his eyebrows. “I maintain that the ritual chant has no effect on the functionality of the ship and crew,” he said. “Nevertheless it is traditional that the phrase be completed.” 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. “Monitor the patch job for leaks and set up a force field on the hull side.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Vorik nodded and went to carry out her orders. 

B'Elanna Torres looked up at the second engineering deck as she cradled her burnt arm. She hollered: “Nicoletti: what’s the status of those relays?” 

“Repaired, Sir!” 

“Run a central system’s test,” she ordered. Her eyes checked over all her domain and staff: each console, each yellow and black crewman, all the patched fissures… 

The systems check got underway and B'Elanna knew its result well before it was complete as she listened to the healthy purr of the warp engine and the routine beeps of the computer. She slapped her comm badge. “Torres to Bridge: we have warp power.” 

“ _Good,”_ the Captain’s voice crackled through the comm. “ _Tom, get us out of here!”_

 _“Aye, Ma’am.”_  

A boom and the jolt of another torpedo impact rammed them as the ship jumped to warp. B'Elanna pitched sideways. She rolled and took the fall on her un-burnt arm and side, then scrambled to her feet. 

Three consoles were damaged. The core was still running.  

“Upper deck secure!” Nicoletti yelled down to her. B'Elanna was already assessing the lower level team. Shaken, standing, checking systems.

Henley…

B'Elanna was at Henley’s side in three strides, shoving a piece of bulkhead out of the way to reach her. Ballard was propping the other engineer up against the wall. Henley was curled in a ball. No blood. But… 

But she was sobbing. 

 _Fuck_. Torres swallowed her unease. 

“Abi…” Ballard sounded just as perturbed as she felt. Abi Henley never cried. 

But she _did_ have what was shaping up to be a hell of a Targ’s eye on her temple.  

“She’s alright, Ballard,” Torres said, accepting a med-kit someone shoved into her line of sight. She whipped out the tricorder and ran it over Henley. Her eyes flicked to Ballard. “Take over her station.” Ballard didn’t move. She frowned. “ _Ensign_.” 

“Y-yes sir.” Ballard said, finally snapping back to the present. 

Torres sighed. She stowed the tricorder and grabbed Abi Henley by her upper arms. “Henley, you’re fine. Breathe, okay?” She pressed a painkiller to her friend’s neck and then snatched up a swelling-reducer. She curled Henley’s hand around it and dragged her wrist up “Hold that there over your temple. We can keep the swelling down.” 

“It’s – “ Henley gulped in air, sobs finally abetting. “It’s…” 

“Fine, yes. You’re fine.” 

Well, not entirely. She had a skull fracture. But Torres knew she was a shit nurse and she preferred Abi Henley with all her wits about her. “Quit crying and help me to sickbay. My arm’s killing me.” 

Henley hiccupped but moved to stand, and B'Elanna tugged her arms to pull her all the way to her feet. She got on Henley’s right side, hauling her arm over her shoulder and gripping her left arm to make sure Henley didn’t drop the swelling-reducer. “ _Nicoletti!_ ” Torres shouted. “ _You’re in charge.”_  

“ _Aye, Sir!”_

And she hauled Abi Henley to the turbolift, “ _Unbowed,_ ” Torres growled after she called for Deck 5. 

The lift started to move. 

“ _Unbent,_ ” Henley murmured. Her shaky hand squeezed Torres burnt shoulder. 

Torres sighed. “ _Unbroken.”_

~~... ** _DAY 65..._**~~

“Recycle it,” Kathryn Janeway said, eyes sliding away from the beautiful chronometer and back to her repair work. It needed to get done. There was so much else to do. There was _too much_ else to do.

Damnit she had to keep the ship together.

“ _Kathryn,”_

“I’ve got to get this done, Commander.”

Chakotay sighed, shook his head, and squeezed her shoulder twice as he stood to leave. “ _Unbowed, unbent,_ ” he murmured.

She didn’t respond.

Head hanging, Chakotay turned away from her, hand tucking the refused birthday gift safely back into his pocket. Shoulders bowed, he returned to the bridge. 

A tear rolled down Kathryn’s grubby cheek. **  
**

 

~~**_...DAY 66..._ ** ~~

“Ha!” Harry whooped. “Kim to Janeway!” he said. “Chroniton shielding is online!”

“ _First bit of good news I’ve heard in months.”_

Harry grinned, wiping matted, over-grown hair out of his face.  “Unbowed, Unbent,” he cheered.

“ _Janeway out.”_

Harry frowned. “But…” He blinked down at his comm-badge, feeling bereft. He looked around, taking in the still-wrecked Astrometric Lab. His shoulders sagged.

Then his comm-badge chirped.

 _“Paris to Kim.”_ Tom paused. “ _Unbroken.”_

 “ _Thanks, Tom.”_ Harry Kim sighed.

“I do not understand.”

Harry turned and found Seven frowning at him.  “What?”

She raised her eyebrows and pointed at his comm-badge. “This… ritual chant of yours has no value. It is pointless.”

Harry shook his head.  “It’s not…” He swallowed. “It’s the most important thing we have.”

“No,” Seven frowned at him. “ _That_ would be the chroniton shielding.” ** _  
_**

 

~~**_...DAY 70..._ ** ~~

Kathryn Janeway’s heart hammered in her throat. Her pulse echoed the repeated syllables of  her thoughts. Thud-thud-thud. _No, no, no!_

“Get them back!” She snapped as she vaulted away from her seat and towards the view screen; her white knuckled hands crushed the railing. _Tom, Chakotay…_

“They’re… they’re gone, Captain.”

_No…_

“The ship is powering weapons,”

_I have to get him back._

_I have to…_

“Their  mass will prevent them from pursuing past Warp 6.”

_I…_

“Captain, I must caution you that with the damage to our structural integrity, warp speeds will cause severe damage.”

_I…_

“Captain!”

_No time._

“Engage the transverse bulkheads!” She ordered. Her Relief Conn was on the deck with a broken leg. She dashed to the Helm herself, engaging the warp drive. “All hands evacuate all sections adjacent to the outer hull. Secure all doors.” She pushed the ship to warp 8, falling against the Conn as the ship shook and sparks flew out at her. 

“They’re not pursuing, Captain.”

“Good.” She dropped them back to impulse and glanced at the specs over at the science station. She transferred control of maneuvers to the undamaged Yeoman’s station. “Chapman you have helm control. Get to that nebula. Anderson, bring Baytart to Triage. Tuvok, you have the bridge.”

She bolted for her ready room. 

_Chakotay…_

Kathryn pinched the bridge of her nose. No tears. No time. _Keep it together._ She swallowed a sob. “Unbowed,” she whispered to herself. “Un-unbowed, unbent...” She moved to her desk. She could check the time-ship’s course, defenses, specs. _Anything._ “Unbro…”

She heard a crunch under her foot and looked down.  There was her lucky tea cup, its pieces strewn all over the ground, one of them further shattered under her heel. 

“Broken…” she whispered.

She stared for a long time.

Finally, her hand drifted up to her comm badge. “Janeway to Neelix,” she whispered.

In Chakotay’s absence, he would coordinate the evacuation. ** _  
_**

 

~~**_...DAY 73..._ ** ~~

**_“_** _Unbowed, unbent,”_ the Captain murmured.

“ _Unbroken…”_ The chorused response from her entire crew sounded as subdued as her call. 

She had to do better. She cleared her throat. “This isn’t goodbye,” she declared. And she tried like hell to mean it. ** _  
_**

 

~~**_...DAY 180..._ ** ~~

“She’ll live, Mr. Kim,” the Doctor declared. “But  inform Mr. Tuvok that he should prepare to maintain command for at least another 12 hours. 

“But…” Harry stammered, ghostly pale under a layer of ash from his singlehandedly dragging the Captain’s body from a fire in deflector control. “But we should be here when she…” 

“I’ll be here,” the Doctor insisted. “ _You_ need a meal and sleep.”

“Come on, Harry,” Torres tugged at his elbow. “We can make sure her ship is unbroken when she wakes up.

Harry sniffled, but followed Torres as she led him out of Sickbay. 

The Doctor shook his head. “Unbowed, unbent…” he mused. “A lesson in bullheadedness to be learned there.” And he returned to treating the Captain. **  
**

~~**_...DAY 207..._ ** ~~

Kathryn Janeway knelt in the destroyed room, lifting a bookshelf off the metal object that her tricorder had detected.

She hesitated. Tilting her head as she tried to comprehend the shining golden wonder laying on the dirty carpet amongst the detritus and chaos. It gleamed like a lighthouse. Like a miracle.

_“A Replica of Captain Cray’s… they thought his ship lost with all hands in a typhoon… imagine their surprise when he limped into the harbor 2 years later. His ship was just a couple planks and half a sail… but he got his crew home.”_

Her throat was tight. _Chakotay…_

Then she swallowed and picked the chronometer – the gift she had so callously refused months ago – up off the carpet. _Unbowed, unbent_ , she thought as she lashed it to her belt. She stood and looked at Neelix. “What do you think?”

“Handsome, Captain.”

It was. Kathryn covered the chronometer with her hand. It was warm like the stale air in this damaged ship. Or better yet, warm like Chakotay…

Just for a moment she closed her eyes and squeezed the pocket watch, imagining his hand squeezing hers. Pulse, pulse, pulse _… pulse-pulse._ She straightened, ignoring the cracking of her spine.

_Unbowed, unbent..._ **_  
_ **

 

~~**_...DAY 257..._ ** ~~

Chakotay stared out the alien viewport at the rest of the attacking fleet. Voyager pulled out ahead of the rest, on a clear collision course with the time-ship he had just beamed off of. Through the gaping hole in the bow, he could see the sparks and flickering red lights on the Bridge… and a single figure – tiny, pale, and _alone_ – hunched over the Conn.

“Beam me to Voyager,” he ordered their allies.

“Chakotay!”

“But, Commander.”

“Do it.” 

A moment later he materialized on the upper deck of the Bridge. There she was, as doggedly stubborn as the ship herself, dirty fingers punching away at the sparking Conn station. Her red hair was matted and brown with grime. Her shoulders and legs were shaking.

“Unbowed, unbent,” he heard her mutter as he strode towards her.

Voyager lurched as its unshielded body punched through the remaining energy field from the time-ship’s deflective weapons, and Kathryn’s hand, fingers blackened with burns and soot, shook over the thruster control. “Un-bowed. Un-buh-bent.”

Chakotay was at her back in a second. He leaned over her, wrapping his arm around her too-thin frame. 

She choked in surprise. Her left arm latched onto his, holding him in a vice grip. “Cha –“

He clasped her trembling right hand. And, together, they pushed Voyager to full speed.

He kissed her burnt temple as he closed his eyes to the view of the time-ship they were rushing straight into. “Unbroken.”

Voyager’s bow slammed into the chroniton infused warpcore of the Kremin time-ship. Chakotay wrenched Kathryn back from the explosion of the Conn station, turning and shielding her as he threw them to the floor. And all around them, their hell buckled and burst apart in a searing white explosion… **  
**

 

** Chief Medical Officer ** ** ’ ** ** s Log : ** **51268**

**(1) The crew is very fortunate for my holographic nature today – I’m the only senior officer not currently on medical leave.**

**(2) From what I gather from their injuries and the strange chroniton irradiated memory engrams in their grey matter, Lt. Paris description of a temporal anomaly presenting as an alternate timeline would seem to “check out” as he would say.**

**(3) I do not know the full details of these experiences. From what little Paris was able to say – before the over stimulation of his chroniton irradiated engrams gave him a migraine – the whole of Voyager lived out nearly a year of time before Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, and Lt. Paris carried out a plan to destroy the… “ _time_ -ship” that had… somehow caused that timeline to occur. From what I gather it was not a… what’s another of his antiquated turns of phrase “walk-in-the-park” – Paris recalls weeks of Voyager being under constant attack before they discovered the time-ship. For some reason that ship’s destruction also restored us to a timeline where we are not under attack… but left injuries sustained by the senior officers behind… and from the strange shadows of burns on the bulkheads the actual ship as well. I can only guess it is related to their proximity to the chroniton explosion. The crew are calling the phenomenon Chroniton Echos which, while not terribly accurate, I can concede aptly matches the _appearance_ of the chroniton-irradiated matter which presents in high concentrations in the ship and senior staff. _It’s_ a peculiar occurrence which my lack of programming in temporal mechanics leaves me ill equipped to understand. I am currently organizing mandatory check ups for the rest of the crew to see if they have any evidence of the radiation in their systems.**

**(4) Thankfully, Ensign Kim was aware enough to recall that this particular chroniton radiation had a variance of 1.75 milliseconds. I was able, from that, to reconfigure one of the dermal regenerators so that it could merge their chroniton irradiated cells with their normal cells. From there, it was a simple matter to heal most of their physical injuries. Why, my innovation is even being adapted to repair the chroniton echoes on the ship.**

**(5) I digress… my examination and treatment of the senior staff proceeded as follows:**

**(6) Lt. Thomas Paris presented with no symptoms other than his flashbacks of Voyager exploding with the time-ship and generally healthy (albeit 257 days older) chroniton-irradiated cells which seemed to overlay his actual body. He was my least serious case. I suffused his chroniton-irradiated cells into his normal cells, making him approximately 134 days older. I gave him a prescription for a sleep aid and a cortical monitor and ordered him to recover in quarters.**

**(7) Seven of Nine presented with much the same symptoms. However, her Borg implants complicated the process as they suddenly viewed her chroniton cells as akin to invasive alien matter. Once I programmed her implants to recognize the temporal variance of the suffused cells her reaction subsisted. She is presently regenerating. I will be interested to see if that has any effect on reducing the aging and minor scarring left from the “chroniton echos.”**

**(8) Ensign Harry Kim, Lt. B'Elanna Torres, and Neelix all presented with non-severe injuries, but moderate malnutrition. Amongst their chroniton-irradiated cells were evidence of lung scarring in Kim, and a torn ACL and tendonitis in Torres. Torres injuries were healed when I did the chroniton suffusion. And I was able to return Ensign Kim to total lung capacity, though he retains chroniton echos of scarring on his alveoli. Kim and Neelix are recovering in quarters. I ordered Lt. Torres to as well. Though her cortical monitor indicates she is not sleeping. I suspect she is on the holodeck. Huuuuh… I long for the day medical expertise gets proper appreciation around here.**

**(9) I digress, Lt. Tuvok presented with the same chroniton-irradiated condition as the others, but with an additional serious injury. He had, somehow, been blinded. Before I performed the suffusion, he could only see when his slightly out of phase cells shifted in and out of prominence, Evidence of Tuvok’s injury remains. His vision is no longer 20/20. While I work to determine if that can be healed, I have replicated him a temporary prescription for eyeglasses.**

**(10) Now… the Captain and Commander I treated first, with the most severe injuries. Somehow the alternate timeline they experienced had left them with fresh third degree burns: the Captain on her feet and lower legs, and Commander Chakotay across his posterior from feet to head. Curiously his arms were bruised but unburnt. And the Captain had bruising on her back consistent with the bruising on _his_ arms. Whatever burnt them in this alternate timeline, I suspect he shielded her from the blast. I note that in the event that commendations should be awarded for these alternative events… And perhaps for the innovative medical _treatment_ of this unprecedented condition.**

**(11) The Captain, additionally, presented with lung scarring identical to Mr. Kim’s, moderate malnutrition,  and scarring from healed burns on her arms and face, and ( _shockingly_ ) caffeine withdrawal. When I healed the chroniton condition, the Captain’s scars faded slightly, but did not vanish – just as Mr. Kim’s lung scarring persisted despite his recovery of complete lung function. The Captain and the Commander’s fresh burns healed when I healed the chroniton irradiation, but those scars also remain for the time being – after the suffusion my dermal regenerators could not recognize the chroniton scars. It is as if, in this timeline, they are little more than… echoes. Huh. Perhaps I shall let crew’s name for this phenomena stand.**

**(12) A final note: when I healed the burns on the Commander’s head, his hair fell out. When I regenerated it, it grew in completely silver. I did not mention it to Chakotay when he woke up. My personality subroutines indicate that that might be… additionally traumatizing. I will let him get some sleep first.**

**(13) Due to the severity of their injuries, including the higher instances of chroniton radiation, I tried to confine the Captain and Commander to Sickbay. Naturally the Captain refused and the Commander after her. They did agree to cortical monitors and I am grateful – I am still concerned what lingering effects the chroniton condition will have on their memory engrams – especially as Mr. Paris has already presented with flashbacks. Scars after all can be mental too.**

 


	2. Vulcan Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of the Year in Hell and the scars it leaves behind, The Captain and Commander come to an understanding, and Tuvok and Chakotay have a heart to heart (or well, as much of one as a Vulcan can have).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic was begging for a follow up so I gave it one. Enjoy. and huge HUGE thanks to sara_sedai for the fast beta

Captain Janeway would never admit it to the Doctor, much as he already suspected. There was no cure for it but sleep-aids. And those were for people privileged enough to not experience a red alert with the frequency that she did.

She dreamed of the Year in Hell whenever she slept. She dreamed of the escape pods tumbling away, sometimes exploding or freezing. She dreamed of broken china pieces leading down burnt, emergency-lit halls. She dreamed of bodies piling up in Sickbay and the Mess Hall. Other times she dreamed of fire licking up her arms and face. That one was easier to deal with. She was saving her ship.

She dreamed of the explosion too - _frequently_. But it was never the heat or the gut-panic the overwhelmed her. The explosion on its own wasn’t even a bad dream. The overwhelming heat and light bore with them a reminder of victory.

No. When she dreamed of the end it wasn’t the victory she focused on. Nor was it ever the searing pain in her legs or her hands. Instead what she brought back with her from sleep to wakefulness was the feeling of his solid arms bracing her against his chest and his scream of _agony_ as the super-heated explosion rolled across his back…

He had done that for her. Another stanza to add to the long epic of his loyalty. His faith. His stubbornness that some days surpassed her own.

Chakotay had died for her. Would have, could have, _should have_ but for temporal intervention.

Kathryn wanted to go to him every night after the dream shocked her awake: to put her hand over his beating heart and then her lips on his warm ones and press them together until they could merge into the same body and she could chase away the fears that always followed her dreams: What if he had been too injured? The thought was difficult to stomach. What if he had died for her and the chroniton-echoes had left him _dead_?

Damn him.

The Captain mused over this as she sat in her Ready Room awaiting him. She was sitting on her couch contemplating the stars streaming past at warp. Despite the fact that Kremin space was now two days behind them she still could not sleep any easier.

When he arrived he stood two paces away from the couch. She addressed his reflection in the black window in no uncertain terms: he was not allowed to die for her again. The ship fine, not her.

He sighed. His soft steps crossed to the couch, and she felt the cushion dip as he sat beside her. He clasped his hands. “No.”

His response tore her from her contemplative study of stars streaking past. She turned and glowered at him: unrepentant, relaxed and reclined on the couch beside her. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Commander.”

“I can’t follow that order,” he said. “Throw me in the brig, Kathryn. I won’t do it.”

She sighed. “What if it hadn’t worked?” she demanded.

“Tuvok and Tom would have found a new ship and gathered the crew and kept going.”

“And you would have _shirked_ your duty to needlessly die along with me.”

He looked away, tugging his ear. “I think you forget who you’re talking to,” he said. “They called it shirking when I joined the Maquis too.”

“This is different,” she insisted. “Chakotay… listen.”

“How about you listen,” he said, and he turned, leaning close to her, voice low and gruff. “I wasn’t _there_ ,” he started off. “When the Cardassians came to Trebus. I was across the Federation, sitting pretty at my desk, complaining about the treaty, grading papers, waiting for a travel permit to the DMZ to get fucking approved by the bastards.”

She looked down at away, unsure what to say.

He kept going: “I wasn’t there. I couldn’t save my father, my cousins, my mother. I couldn’t help my sister or my nephew.”

“This is… different,”

“No it isn’t,” he insisted. “You seem to think we can only have a life once we make it back, that duty is all you can consider, but Kathryn this _is_ my life… it’s not exactly where I thought I’d end up, but it is a good one. I learned my lesson about living in a time that’s not the present and putting duty ahead of what’s important. I let myself be _blind_ to what was really happening out there until it was too late. And then that past consumed all of me in the Maquis, like the future is consuming you.” He put his hand under her chin and made her meet his eyes, searing in their intensity. “I’ll always do what’s best for the crew, damn it, but don’t tell me not to save you. I won’t do it. I let my family die on me before. I’ll never let that happen again.”

“ _Chakotay!”_ She shot off the couch away from him. There were things they didn’t talk about. _Damn him._

“I _didn’t_ say it,” he said. And he watched her pace and move behind her desk. When she leaned over it, fists braced on the top and head shaking, he rose. He stood at ease. “You wanted to establish more parameters, Captain?”

She threw him a withering look. “No, that won’t be necessary. Dismissed, Commander.”

Chakotay inclined his head and strode out of the room with a weary smile on his face. _Chakotay 1; Captain 0,_ he thought with a bitterness that surprised him.

They weren’t really fighting over this, were they?

 _No. She’s just rattled… and scared._ He caught Tuvok’s eye as he left the Ready Room. The Vulcan raised his eyebrows.

He’d been a very good spy back in the day. So when Chakotay drummed his fingers across the top of the tactical console in the signal the Maquis had used to mean they had information to share, he knew the Chief of Security would pick up on it. “I’ll be in my office, take Bridge, Tuvok.”

The Chief of Security appeared in Chakotay’s office 10 minutes later - just long enough that it wouldn’t seem like Tuvok had followed him. No wonder he’d been such a good goddamn spy.

“Commander,” he said. With his new glasses, Chakotay could never shake the impression that he was speaking with his old flight instructor.

“How are you coping with the alternative memories, Tuvok?”

“With little difficulty. I have reflected and understand that I acted the best as I could to keep the ship and crew alive in the alternate timeline. I find peace in that knowledge.”

Chakotay nodded.

“I take it the Captain has assured you she is fine?”

Chakotay made a face and ordered two Vulcan teas from the replicator. “She’s not sleeping. Not that she’ll admit it, but she’s not. She won’t talk about the scars. She tries to give me orders I can’t follow— _don’t_ ask. That doesn’t matter.” He shook his head as he passed Tuvok his tea and then sat down at his desk chair. “You were on the ship with her for the worst of it. Just.. What are we dealing with?”

Tuvok sipped his tea. “I cannot tell you what she is feeling, Commander”

“No, but your guess is better than mine some days.” He sipped his tea. “What happened to her?”

Tuvok bowed his head, collecting his thoughts. “She watched the escape pods leave the ship. We spent months trapped in a nebula with no word from any of the escape pods and with a ship running on emergency power. She spent a week camped out in Engineering trying to get key systems up and running. She ran into a fire to operate deflector control and passed out from the smoke inhalation… she was reprimanded often by the Doctor for her self-neglect.”

“Purposeful?”

“It was not intentional. She was single-minded in her goal,” Tuvok said. “I have often wondered whether the ship’s needs supersede her own on some instinctive level.” His mouth twitched in a slight frown. “I was previously unaware humans had such discipline.”

Chakotay snorted. “The emotional opposite—obsession.”

“It has its uses… and its downfalls.” Tuvok tilted his head, staring at Chakotay. “You believe the Captain is not fit for duty?

Chakotay frowned as he peered at his tea. “Or _too_ fit,” he mused.

“I do not agree with the former,” Tuvok said. “And there are few options in the case of the latter… Most of them are decidedly… mutinous in nature.”

“No. I’m not suggesting…” Chakotay sighed, then swore.

Both men drank their tea, contemplating their Captain.

“Commander,” Tuvok said softly. “You beamed onto _Voyager_ at the end, knowing it meant death.”

“Actually,” Chakotay tugged his ear… “I was… nearly confident it would reset the timeline.”

“Nearly confident?” Tuvok raised his eyebrows.

“The projections looked good and well…” he shrugged. “We had nothing else to lose.”

“I will rephrase. Knowing you would experience the pain of the explosion on a self-destructing vessel, you beamed over, even though, logically, all evidence showed that _Voyager_ would strike the time ship without error… Why?”

“It had nothing to do with logic,” Chakotay huffed. “I wouldn’t leave her alone like that if I could help it. I think you know that by now.”

Tuvok nodded. “I… expressed my intent to stay,” he said. “For the same illogical reason. The Captain reminded me that the more logical course of action was to beam off the ship and find the crew in the event the plan failed.” He sat back in his chair. “The chances of finding the crew half a year after they had left of course were exceptionally low, yet highly preferred. Furthermore, my dying aboard Voyager was… unnecessary. She ordered me to leave and in the moment there was no logical reason to resist.”

Chakotay watched the Vulcan, his hand tapping against his cheek. The man looked to be building up to something.

Tuvok continued, “there are things that are logical and things that are illogical. But, while it has taken a lifetime to understand, there are those things that cannot be adequately qualified by either category they are… outside logic. You made such a decision without thought. It was one that did not come naturally to me. In the moment, when it mattered, I was incapable of making it.” He looked at Chakotay then, eyes quite serious. “You put the Captain’s needs before your own, much the same way she does for this ship. It allows you to make such decisions.”

“I’m not obsessed with Kathryn,” Chakotay protested.

Tuvok’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “My point,” he continued. “Is that we may have few options for assisting the Captain in the long term. That has been… difficult for me to accept. However, you showed in the alternate timeline that you are exceptionally capable of helping the Captain in the short term when the acute need presents itself. Therefore, while we are both concerned for her well-being, I am confident that your own instincts will enable help to reach her when it is most needed.”

Chakotay opened and closed his mouth and felt the blush covering his face. He looked down at his empty mug. “Is it _terribly_ obvious?” he asked.

Tuvok tilted his head. “It is obvious,” he said. “It is hardly terrible.” He rose. “If that is all, Commander.”

“Erm… yes. Thank you, Tuvok. You’re dismissed.” He looked around his desk, busying himself with the stack of reports on the side.

“Commander?”

Chakotay looked up to see Tuvok standing just in front of the open door.

“Kathryn appreciates your efforts, even if the Captain doesn’t.”

“You see the difference?” Chakotay asked.

“Indeed… I am part of the reason there is a difference.” He looked down. “After she was subject to a board of inquiry as First Officer of _The Billings,_ I recommended that she distance her personal, emotional self from her Command persona. I believed it would serve her well whilst managing future crises.”

 _Oh so I have you to thank for this_ , Chakotay thought. “Wise words.”

Tuvok surprised him by raising his eyebrows again. “I gave my advice at a time before I understood her… as a Vulcan to a human. It was sound advice for a young human Commander. Regrettably, she is in some ways very like a Vulcan, and I believe has adopted my advice too well.” And with that, he took his leave. Chakotay remained in his office feeling as if the universe had turned on its head, and wondering how many of the crew thought he was obsessed with Kathryn Janeway.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah.. first foray into Voyager fic. I've got a few other Voyager-y / JC things in the works. I'm not done with the series yet though. And I've got another epic-length WIP that I need to finish... well, should have finished months ago. Not to mention the pesky Masters thesis... but eventually, if people like this, I'd love to post more Voyager stuff.


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